I Reincarnated as a Prince Who Revolutionized the Kingdom

June 7th, 1693 – Fort Vaillac

The royalist army buzzed with activity as Prince Bruno prepared to launch the next phase of his campaign. Soldiers inspected their equipment—rifles were cleaned and loaded, artillery carriages reinforced, and wagons stocked with provisions. Engineers worked tirelessly on reinforcing bridges and pathways to ensure smooth logistics. The goal was clear: Fort Rochevelle had to fall.

Bruno stood over a map in the command chamber, flanked by General Berthold, Captain Vallier, and Antoine Leclerc. Scouts had returned with crucial information regarding the fort's defenses.

"Two thousand men guard the fort," Leclerc reported. "They've reinforced the outer walls and placed artillery on elevated platforms. However, their garrison appears hastily organized. There are signs they haven't fully prepared for an extended siege."

"They'll know we're coming soon," Vallier added. "We need to move before they can mobilize reinforcements."

Bruno nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Agreed. We need to strike decisively. What's the terrain?"

Leclerc pointed to a ridge on the map. "There's high ground here to the west. Perfect for our artillery. The eastern side is less fortified—ideal for a flanking maneuver. If we can breach the gates and disable their artillery, their defenses will crumble."

Berthold crossed his arms. "We'll have to move fast. If the Republic catches wind of this, they might send more troops."

"They won't have time," Bruno said firmly. "We'll cut off their communication lines. Prepare the men. We march tomorrow."

June 10th, 1693 – Near Fort Rochevelle

The royalist army advanced under the cover of night. The road to Fort Rochevelle was surrounded by dense forests and rocky hills, making it difficult for scouts to spot them from afar. Bruno had divided his forces into three groups: General Berthold commanded the central column with the artillery, Vallier led the cavalry on the eastern flank, and Bruno led the western detachment tasked with cutting off any potential escape routes.

By dawn, the army was in position. The fort loomed on a plateau, its walls bristling with cannons and watchtowers. Bruno observed through a spyglass, noting the placement of enemy artillery.

"They're relying on height for defense," he murmured. "But that leaves their cannon crews exposed."

Durand, the chief engineer, stood beside him. "Our howitzers can handle that. Once we take out their guns, they'll have no choice but to retreat inside the walls."

"Make it happen," Bruno ordered. He turned to Vallier. "Is the cavalry in position?"

"They're ready," Vallier replied. "We'll hit them the moment the artillery weakens their defenses."

Bruno took a deep breath. "Let's begin."

The Assault Begins

The first cannon volley shattered the dawn silence. Explosive shells arced through the sky, slamming into the fort's artillery emplacements. Stone and metal fragments rained down on the defenders, sending shockwaves across the ramparts.

Inside the fort, Republican soldiers scrambled to respond. Officers barked orders as cannon crews struggled to return fire.

"Get those guns firing!" a sergeant shouted. "Target their artillery!"

But the royalists had the advantage. Bruno's howitzers, positioned on the western ridge, continued their bombardment with relentless precision. One by one, the enemy cannons were disabled, their crews either killed or forced to abandon their posts.

"Prepare the infantry!" General Berthold roared. "Advance under cover of fire!"

Royalist soldiers surged forward in disciplined formations. They moved through the trenches and hills, their rifles raised. Shots rang out as both sides exchanged fire. Engineers carrying demolition charges pushed toward the main gate, using the smoke and confusion to mask their approach.

"Set the charges!" one of the engineers yelled.

Explosions ripped through the fort's main gate, sending debris flying. The royalist infantry charged through the breach, clashing with the defenders in brutal close-quarters combat. Bayonets gleamed in the morning light as soldiers fought for control of the outer walls.

Inside the Fort

Colonel Armand, the Republican commander, stood on the central tower, his face pale as he watched the chaos unfold below.

"Sir, the western defenses are collapsing!" a lieutenant reported. "Their artillery is tearing us apart!"

"Hold the inner defenses!" Armand snapped. "Pull every available man to the courtyard. We can't let them take the fort!"

His officers obeyed, rallying the remaining troops. But morale was already crumbling. The sound of royalist war cries echoed through the corridors as more sections of the walls fell to the advancing army.

Bruno led his detachment through a secondary breach on the western side. He moved swiftly, cutting down a Republican soldier who lunged at him with a bayonet. Around him, his men pushed forward with determination, clearing the path to the central courtyard.

"Push them back!" Bruno shouted. "We have them surrounded!"

The royalist infantry pressed their advantage, forcing the defenders into a final stand near the barracks. Captain Vallier's cavalry burst through the eastern gate moments later, completing the encirclement.

"Drop your weapons!" Vallier bellowed. "You're outnumbered!"

Colonel Armand hesitated, his gaze darting between his exhausted men and the advancing royalists. Slowly, he raised his hand in surrender.

By midday, the battle was over. Royalist banners were hoisted above Fort Rochevelle, and the prisoners were disarmed and placed under guard. Bruno stood in the central courtyard, overseeing the cleanup efforts.

General Berthold approached with a report. "The fort is ours, Your Highness. Casualties were minimal. Most of the enemy surrendered once we breached the inner defenses."

"Good," Bruno replied. "Ensure the prisoners are treated fairly. I want them to understand that we fight for liberation, not revenge."

Captain Vallier arrived moments later. "We found documents in the command tower. Orders from Elysee. It looks like they were expecting reinforcements, but they never arrived."

Bruno nodded thoughtfully. "The Republic is stretched thin. This victory will force them to make difficult choices."

Antoine Leclerc entered the courtyard with a message. "Your Highness, delegations from nearby towns are already on their way. News of the battle spread faster than we anticipated."

"Then we'll use that momentum," Bruno said. "Fortify this position and prepare for further attacks. The Republic won't give up easily."

***

June 12th, 1693 – Elysee, Bureau of State Security

Minister Emilia Voss paced back and forth in the war room, her heels striking the marble floor with a sharp echo. The report on Fort Rochevelle's fall lay crumpled in her fist. General Hector Bellerose and Minister Jean-Paul Lafayette stood nearby, tension hanging thick in the air.

"How many forts do we have left under our control in the south?" Voss demanded.

"Only Fort Serrant and Fort Dubois remain, but both are undermanned," Bellerose replied. "If Bruno's forces maintain their current momentum, he could take them within weeks."

"Then when the hell is General Marceau arriving?" Voss's voice cracked with frustration.

Lafayette adjusted his spectacles, speaking in a measured tone. "The latest dispatch confirmed that Marceau's army is already en route. He'll be in the southern territories within a fortnight. We've reassigned additional artillery and infantry to support him."

Bellerose leaned forward on the table. "Marceau is a man of results. He'll stabilize the front."

Voss inhaled deeply, her jaw tightening. "He'd better. We cannot afford another loss. If Bruno takes control of the southern provinces, the entire Republic will begin to fracture."